User blog:Blakewilbanks/New Story.
I'm writing a new story based in a futuristic New York, yes... It's a Dystopian Society it's called 'The City,' here's a snippet: "I EMERGE FROM the dream with a gasp. I feel hot and have beads of sweat on my forehead. I can’t exactly remember what happened in my dream but it was weird. My mother and I stood in our living room, she stared back at me, fear in her eyes. Why though? “You have to leave, now,” she exclaimed, her eyes leaving mine for a second then returning. She had teary eyes. Her sharp nails dug into the skin on my arm, her sharp nails felt like razor blades, pushing deeper and deeper into the skin. I felt something warm trickle down my arm—blood—it’s darker than you think it’d be, a strange color but beautiful too. Then the door behind her burst open, revealing my father he has a sneer on his face, he doesn’t bother hiding the disgust he has for me, never has. Ever since my brother—Leon—died he’s been beating me, because of something I didn’t do right, or because he just feels like I deserve it I guess. I don’t know why though. We used to be a happy family, now we’re just ‘broken.’ My mother cowers away, as my father stalks over to me, his hands balled into fist. He lunges forward at me, with full force. Then the dream is over. I look from the left of the room I was in to the right; everyone seemed to still be asleep even though my wake was nothing but quiet. My gasp was practically a yell, I look toward Haven, and she was still asleep. We were currently in headquarters; I huffed and puffed out a sigh, still trying to catch my breath. Haven stirred awake, and glanced at me through half closed eyes. “Bad dream,” she asked, stretching her muscles that were tense from sleep. “Yeah, you could say that.” “Well,” she says, sitting up so she can look at me, or at least look at what she can she through the dim light in the room full of bunks. “At least you aren’t in The Main Land anymore.” “Yeah,” I say, agreeing with her. I ran away from The Main Land, after my father tried to beat me to a pulp. I couldn’t stand living with my father anymore, but I do feel bad for leaving my mother there with him, with that monster. “Are you thinking about Andrew,” Haven asks. I don’t answer I just crouch under the covers again and try to sleep. She was asking about my father—Andrew—the monster. I planned to go back for my mother but she’s dead. I had received the news from Haven, I don’t know how she found out, because she would never tell me, but I believe somewhere out there, whether it is near or far, that my mother is out there probably searching for me. The next morning I’m running in the words, I do this often even though our world has turned to nothing but ash and black, it’s still beautiful. Beautiful in a way that my family and I used to be, when our world wasn’t turned upside down, Leon wasn’t, and my father didn’t used to beat me. Back then my father would say, “Xanthos, I love you and Leon so much,” was all that a lie or did he really love me the way a father should love his son? I continue running, passing The Tower which is really a pyramid that towers over The City. Who knows maybe even my father is dead, my father would never use pet names with my mother, he would just call her by her name—Susan—I sometimes wonder if he was more loving and caring toward her when they were younger. Love is a rare thing now. After a while I turn around and go back to the camp. I enter the lunch room, and walk over to the table Haven sits at, with Cara and Nick. “There he is,” Nick says in a sing-song voice, patting me on the back as I sit down. “Where were you,” Cara and Haven say in sync, it’s weird how they can speak at the same time, and think the same thing even though they aren’t related in anyway what so ever. “I—I went for a run, you know exercise, it’s good for you.” “Xanthos,” Haven says, “You’re already healthy enough and your body strength is unreal, you could take Nick in a heart-beat.” I chuckle at that, Haven could be beautiful if she cut her long black hair, and wore clothes that actually fit her; right now she was wearing baggy blue jeans, with a white V-neck, and nothing on her feet. “I just like to run, and workout.” “Okay,” she says and returns to eating. I don’t eat because I’m not hungry. Could this world that we live in now be better or just get worse? The black ash that covers the ground and some of the leafless trees," This is just a snippet of what I am going to write, this was just a sneak peek. . . Category:Blog posts